Pilot
by RedQ
Summary: As if trying to recover after nine months in a coma wasn't bad enough, Barry now has all these strange side effects to deal with. Unexplainable hunger, rapidly disappearing injuries, strange muscle spasms, and worst of all, hallucinations. How Barry should have initially reacted to his powers. A more realistic version of the pilot.
1. Nine Months

**A more medically and logically realistic version of the pilot, featuring Barry with a little more common sense and Caitlin with some half-decent medical skills and an ounce of bedside manner.**

* * *

 **Nine Months**

* * *

Barry sensed them more than he heard them. Two people were hovering over him. At first, he thought he was just dreaming they were there, but as the murkiness of his brain lifted, he started to realize he didn't even remember going to sleep. He didn't even _know_ what the last thing he remembered was.

The sound of music drifted to his ears, and that was when Barry realized that the presence of others in the room with him wasn't just a dream. They were actually there, hovering over him while he slept.

And it scared the shit out of him.

"He _likes_ this song," he heard one of them say.

He _hates_ this song. Iris used to sing it all the time just to annoy him, and she had even posted it on his Facebook page to drive him crazy. Now, stuck laying here listening to it was going to be absolute torture. Thanks, Iris.

He didn't recognize the voice of the guy who had spoken, whoever he was, and Barry was growing more on edge as he heard an unfamiliar female voice talking back to him. He didn't listen to what either of them were saying about auditory functions, though. He was too focused on trying to move—to twitch a finger, maybe open his eyes, _something—_ but it was like his body simply wouldn't respond.

Barry's could feel his heart racing in panic, and he tried to calm himself down.

 _Think,_ he told himself. What would cause him to lose his ability to move? Oh, God. Was he paralyzed? No. Even a quadriplegic could usually open their eyes at the very least. He remembered reading something about sleep paralysis back in college. Something about the mechanism in your brain that stops you from acting out all your dreams while you sleep, how sometimes it can fail to turn off when you wake up and leave you lying there, fully conscious but unable to move. He didn't have any history or experience with sleep paralysis, though, and he didn't know how to fix it.

He felt a tingling sensation in his fingers that seemed to pulse up his arms, and a strange ringing sound filled his ears, drowning out the sounds of the annoying music. Barry felt like he was being pulled back under some kind of invisible veil, like he was being submerged in water. He fought it with all his strength, not wanting to go back into the darkness again. Barry willed his muscles to move, feeling like it was taking every ounce of his strength to gain control of his body again. He continued to fight it with everything he had until…

Barry suddenly shot up in bed with a gasp.

"Oh, my God!" he heard the guy from earlier shout in surprise.

"Where am I?!" Barry asked in a panicked voice.

"He's up!" the woman said in surprise, rushing over to him.

She gently pressed her hands on his chest to make him lie back.

"It's okay," she said, "You're okay. You're safe. Just calm down."

"What happened? Where am I?" Barry asked again in a scared voice.

His voice sounded hoarse, and his throat was incredibly sore, but he ignored it as he waited anxiously for her answer.

"You're at STAR Labs," she told him gently, "I'm a doctor. I've been taking care of you here."

He could see her eyes darting back and forth between him and a heart monitor, watching his vitals nervously.

"What's going on?" Barry asked urgently, "Why am I here? What happened?"

"You've…" she said, biting her lip, "You've been in a coma."

Barry stared at her.

"A coma?" he asked, his voice cracking, "I've been in a… _For how long_?!"

She exchanged an uneasy look with the other man in the room.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him instead of answering, "Any dizziness? Do you feel nauseated?"

"For how long?!" he asked again, not answering her questions.

"Mr. Allen…" she said in a strained voice.

How long had he been out? Months? _Years_? Oh, God.

He reached up and shakily touched his face, wondering how much time had passed, how much he had aged. His breathing was becoming uneven, and he was on the verge of hyperventilating. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be.

"Nine months," the guy standing by the doctor finally said, "You've been out for nine months."

Barry felt all the blood drain from his face, and he rested his head back against his pillow, covering his mouth with his hand, panicked tears welling in his eyes.

Nine months. He had been laying in a bed for nine months. The rest of the world had been going by without him as he slept away nine months of his life.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he mumbled through his fingers.

The doctor managed to get a basin in front of him before he threw up.

* * *

Iris was working at Jitters when she got the call.

It had been a nice, normal day. She had finally gotten to a place where she could go at least a couple hours without worrying about Barry. He was always in the back of her mind, but now she could finally focus on what she was doing for longer lengths of time. For the longest time after the doctors had declared Barry comatose, Iris hadn't been able to focus on much else. She could hardly think about anything else, let alone work. She had been constantly knocking things over and messing up orders as she worked with her distracted, worrying mind, but she had finally managed to get back into the rhythm of things again.

After refilling a customer's coffee for them, she was just thinking to herself that she would swing by STAR Labs later and sit with Barry for a while after work, when her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket. She usually never kept her phone on her when she was working, but her boss—along with everyone else at Jitters—knew about the situation with Barry by now, and no one had any objections to her having her phone on her while she was there.

Iris immediately rushed to the back room to take the call when she saw it was STAR Labs calling. She had a sinking feeling in her gut when she looked at the caller ID. What had happened now? Had Barry had another seizure? Did his heart stop again? For good this time? Did he have some other complication? Caitlin had mentioned to her the last time that she was there that Barry's breathing pattern had changed. What if there was some kind of problem? What if he was developing pneumonia or his lungs were starting to give out? It happened with coma patients all the time. Spontaneous respiratory failure.

A million thoughts racing through her head, Iris answered the phone as soon as she had reached the back room.

"Hello?" she said urgently.

"Iris," Cisco's voice answered seriously through the phone, "Barry just woke up."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"W-what?" Iris stammered.

"He's awake," Cisco told her, "He just woke up a few minutes ago."

Iris felt like she could barely breath. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. Barry was awake. He woke up from the coma. After months and months of waiting, of slowly losing hope that she would ever see him conscious again, ever hear his voice again, Barry was _awake_.

"He's…?" she whispered into the phone.

"And he's kind of freaking out right now," Cisco told her quickly, "We need you and Joe to get here to calm him down."

"Oh, my God," she said in shock, taking in a shuttering breath, "I'll be right there!"

After a quick explanation to her boss, Iris raced out of Jitters, dialing her dad's number as she got into her car and pulled it out of the Jitters parking lot.

"Dad," she said urgently as soon as he picked up, "Barry's awake."

"What?" her father said in shock.

"He's awake!" she cried into the phone, "I'm on my way to STAR Labs right now. He just woke up!"

"Oh, my God," Joe whispered, his reaction similar to hers, "I'm leaving now!"

"I'll see you there," she said, her voice cracking.

Iris tried her best to obey traffic laws as she raced to STAR Labs, but that was kind of hard to do when her only thought was getting there. Barry was awake. He was awake, and he was probably scared out his mind. She needed to see him _now_.

* * *

Barry focused on calming his breathing down as the doctor looked him over. He was laid back against the pillow, but he was practically sitting upright in bed with how far up the head of it was elevated.

He stared at the ceiling, trying to wrap his head around everything as she checked all his vitals. He barely blinked as the doctor shined a light in his eyes, quietly muttering to herself that his pupils were equally reactive to light and approximated.

"Is he alright?" the guy standing near his bed asked her nervously.

"He's in shock," she said quietly, checking Barry's blood pressure again, "It's a lot to take in, finding out you've been in a coma for nine months."

Barry didn't say anything. He just focused on his breathing, trying to take calm, even breaths. _Nine months._

He couldn't stay here. He needed to move. He needed to get up. With that thought, Barry suddenly leaned forward and tried to swing his legs out of bed. One of his legs caught on something, but he managed to get them both out from under the blanket and over the edge. It was then he noticed his legs were bare, and he was wearing only a hospital gown.

"Woah, easy there, dude," the guy, Cisco, said quickly.

He and the doctor managed to force Barry to lay back again, pushing him back against the pillows and swinging his legs back into the bed, only half covered now.

"I can't stay here," Barry said urgently, "I have to get up."

"And where exactly are you planning on going, Mr. Allen?" a voice said from the doorway.

Barry looked over to see none other than Dr. Wells, himself, enter the room…in a wheelchair.

Before, Barry would have freaked out at the sight of him, would have stammered to him how excited he was to meet him, maybe tried to strike up a conversation about his thesis on string phenomenology or asked him more about his unorthodox approach to general relativity theory, but right now, none of that mattered to Barry.

"I need to see Joe and Iris," Barry stammered, "They…It's been nine months. I need to see them."

"They're on their way," Dr. Snow assured him, "Cisco just called them."

Barry relaxed slightly at that. Joe and Iris were coming. They were on their way there. Barry desperately needed to see a familiar face. Right now, he was in a room full of strangers. He didn't know any of them, even if he had read one of their autobiographies multiple times. He felt better, knowing his family would be there soon.

"Besides," Dr. Snow continued, "You've been in a bed for nine months. You shouldn't be on your feet just yet. You're still connected to an IV, a nasal cannula, and a catheter. Not to mention all the monitors that you keep pulling off of you."

Even as she said it, the doctor was reapplying a heart monitor lead to his chest that he had absently pulled off in his haste to get out of bed.

Barry lifted up the covers then and lifted his hospital gown to see for himself. He did, in fact, have a catheter in. That must have been what his leg had caught on when he tried to get up.

"Don't worry," she said to him as he recovered himself, "I'll take it out once you're tolerating oral fluids again. It should be out within a day or two."

"A day or two?!" he asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah," she said obviously, "You're going to have to stay here for a while. You're not going to be able to just hop out of bed and walk out of here right away. That would be insane. We have to make sure you're alright first."

Barry goggled at her for a moment, but he was distracted when he heard a shout from the doorway.

* * *

"Barry!" Iris cried when she rushed into the cortex and saw him sitting up in bed, his eyes _open_.

It was a sight she had been starting to think she was never going to see again. Barry looked over at her, but before he could even react to seeing her there, she had crossed the room and had her arms wrapped tightly around him, and he hugged her _back_! His arms responded, and he actually hugged her back!

"Iris," he said softly into her ear.

God, it was so good to hear his voice again, to see him sitting up and talking, not just lying there, dead to the world. Iris had to blink back the tears in her eyes as she pulled away then to look at him. To look into his _open_ eyes staring back at her. It didn't feel real. She had dreamt of this so many times, it was hard to believe it was real—Barry was really awake.

"You must be freaking out," she said understandingly to him, rubbing his arm, "Everything's okay, though, Barry. You're _awake_. You're awake now, and everything's okay."

"What happened?" he asked her quietly, "Was I in a car accident? Hit by a bus? Or…?"

"You were struck by lightning, Barry," she told him gently.

Barry blinked at her, and she could tell that that was clearly the last thing he had been expecting her to say. She could see his wheels turning behind his eyes, trying to comprehend what she was telling him, trying to remember the incident.

"Oh, my God," her father's voice came from the doorway.

Iris looked over and quickly moved aside then so her dad could hug Barry and see him for himself.

"You're awake," her father said to Barry, in shock as he stooped down to hug him, "I've missed you so much, Bar."

Barry just stared at both of them after Joe had pulled away from the hug.

"Struck by lightning?" he said quietly, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

Joe nodded.

"It came through your skylight. Officer Liddell found you in your lab shortly after you were struck. There was glass and chemicals everywhere, and you were covered in cuts and chemical burns for weeks afterwards. You fell right into you stock shelf."

"Your heart kept stopping," Iris said shakily, remembering that night all too clearly, "We watched you die, Barry. Over and over again. You kept going into cardiac arrest."

Barry reached up and touched his chest over the hospital gown he was wearing.

"My heart stopped?" he asked quietly.

Joe nodded sadly.

"And you were having seizures," he said painfully, "Violent, grand mal seizures. The doctors were baffled. They didn't know how to stop them."

"So we had you transferred here," Iris supplied, "Dr. Wells and his team helped stabilize you."

Barry opened his mouth to ask another question, but they all jumped when there was a loud clatter behind them near the bed. Cisco had accidentally knocked over a wheeled surgical table, sending all its contents falling noisily to the ground.

Iris noticed Barry staring wide-eyed at the surgical tray, a strange look on his face.

"Are you okay, Barry?" she asked him worriedly.

"Yeah," he said breathlessly, rubbing his eyes and looking back at her again, "I'm just a little fuzzy right now. This is a lot to take in."

She nodded and patted his arm soothingly. She couldn't even imagine what this must be like for him, to suddenly find himself waking up in a strange place, surrounded by strangers, and then being told he had been in a coma for nearly a year. It had to be overwhelming.

* * *

Barry tried to give himself a mental shake. He had imagined it. He had imagined the medical instruments falling to the ground in slow motion. He was still just groggy after waking up. That had to be it.

He pulled a small smile up on his face so no one would worry. Joe and Iris were still studying his face apprehensively, as if waiting for him to start freaking out at any moment. And he was _definitely_ freaking out. He was just trying not to show it.

He wanted to ask them a million questions. What had happened in all the time he was out? Did Singh hold his job for him? What about his apartment? Had his lease run out? Who had paid his medical bills? Was he going find himself in debt now with nine months' worth of medical bills to pay off? Who had been paying his other bills? Was his credit in the toilet by now, or had Joe and Iris taken care of all of it? Why had STAR Labs offered to treat him? Where were the rest of the STAR Labs employees? There had to be more than just the three of them here.

But his questions would have to wait. He wasn't given much of a chance to ask them amongst all of Dr. Snow's pestering.

When Barry reached up and felt the bandage on his throat, the doctor gently swatted his hand.

"Don't touch that," she said, "Leave it on."

"What is it?" he asked.

"You had a trach tube in your throat," the doctor told him, "A few days ago, you started fighting the intubation, trying to breath on your own, so I switched you to a less invasive oxygen source."

Barry nodded slowly. He couldn't say he was surprised. Anyone in a coma for that long would be required to have a tracheostomy tube put in to avoid breathing complications. It felt weird, though, having the large bandage covering his throat. He was just grateful that the tube was taken out before he woke up. As scary as all of this was, it would have been a million times worse if he had found himself waking up with a trach tube sticking out of his neck.

"Can I have some water?" he croaked, putting his hand on his throat again.

It felt incredibly dry and sore.

"Not yet," she said gently, "We have to do a swallow study before I let you eat or drink anything on your own. You've been getting tube feedings for nine months. There's a chance you might not be able to swallow well at first."

Barry sighed, and Joe patted his arm soothingly.

"It's okay, Bar," he said, "Just take it slow. You've been out for a while. Give yourself time to adjust."

Barry nodded and then groaned as he stretched his arms above his head. His arms hurt like hell. His whole body ached.

"Your joints are going to be a bit stiff for a while," Dr. Snow told him as he stretched, "I did passive range of motion for you regularly, but you're still going to be a little stiff at first. Your muscles, even though they've _grown_ instead of atrophying like they should have, are still probably going to feel a bit weak and sore from disuse."

"They've grown?" Barry asked, "What do you mean?"

He looked over his arms. He had biceps! Well, he had always had biceps of course, but they hadn't been like this.

"Your muscles should have atrophied," the doctor said, pressing her hands on his shoulders, "But instead they're in a state of chronic regeneration. I've never seen anything like it."

She was looking at him like he was some sort of interesting specimen, and Barry found himself getting uncomfortable under her gaze.

The doctor started running a wide range of tests and scans then, starting with a swallow study to be sure he could swallow first before giving him something to drink. He was thankful for that. He had a horrible taste in his mouth, and his throat was so dry, the water was a huge relief for him.

The doctor was shocked but very pleased to find that his brain scans were almost completely normal. He had gone from comatose to fully alert within a day. Barry didn't understand what was so special about it until she explained to him that most coma patients woke up gradually over the course of a few days or even weeks. They didn't normally just shoot up in bed like they do in the movies. He was an abnormal exception to this.

"Can I get some pants, please?" Barry asked after a while, uncomfortable to be wearing just a hospital gown while he was in a room full of fully dressed people, all of whom were looking at him.

They helped Barry get a pair of sweatpants on and a STAR Labs sweatshirt. Caitlin switched his catheter bag to one that attached to his ankle. Barry wanted her to just take the damn thing out, but she regretfully told him that she needed to monitor his output, and when no one was paying attention, she leaned in and whispered to him so no one else could hear, not wanting to embarrass him.

"Also, I'm not sure about your bladder control yet," she whispered quietly, "I figured you wouldn't want an audience for that, in case you have trouble with it."

Barry blushed and then nodded gratefully. He didn't object to the catheter after that.

When Barry first tried to stand, he was a little wobbly on his feet. He had been laying in a bed for nine months, after all, and his legs weren't used to supporting him. Dr. Snow told him he was lucky his muscles hadn't atrophied. Most prolonged coma patients took weeks to be able to stand after waking up.

Barry desperately wanted to go home that night after waking up, and Joe and Iris wanted badly to take him home with them, but the doctor was adamant about keeping him there for observation. Joe and Iris stayed there with him by his bedside, despite Barry's insistence that they go home and get some sleep.

Barry didn't think he'd be able to sleep that night after everything he had had dropped on him in one day. He thought he would lay awake all night, still trying to process it and wrap his mind around all of it, but he found that he was surprisingly tired, even after spending nine months asleep. He was more than just tired. He was _exhausted_.

Joe and Iris seemed leery about letting him fall asleep, no doubt afraid he wouldn't wake up again, but Dr. Snow assured them that that was unlikely and that it was important that they let Barry sleep as much as possible whenever he was tired. His brain was still healing and adjusting, and sleep would be extremely important for him while he recovered.

Barry ended waking up in the middle of the night. He didn't know what time it was, but it had to be late, considering how Joe and Iris were both sound asleep in their chairs next to his bed. Barry was still exhausted, and he wondered what had woken him. That was when he looked down at his hand.

It was shaking. No. More than that. It was… _vibrating_.

It was shaking so hard it looked like it was just a blur to his eyes. Barry blinked through the darkness, trying to get a better look at his hand. It was tingling and spasming. He didn't understand it. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was impossible. His hand couldn't be shaking that hard. It couldn't be moving that fast.

"Barry?" Dr. Snow's soft voice said, and he looked up to see her approaching his bed.

He looked back down at his hand again. It had stopped.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, not wanting to wake Joe or Iris.

"Y-yeah," he said, "I…I think I'm just having some muscle spasms."

She nodded slowly.

"That's pretty common with coma patients," she told him softly, "Where are you having the spasms?"

"My hands," he said, holding them out for her to see.

They were still shaking slightly, but neither of them were vibrating like they had been a moment ago. He must have just imagined that they were moving that fast. He must have still been half asleep.

She carefully examined his hands.

"It should fade with time," she told him, "I'll prescribe you some flexeril. It's a muscle relaxant, and it should help."

She injected some of the medication into his IV then, and Barry took another drink of water before going back to sleep. When he woke up the next morning, he didn't give the incident another thought. He must have just been dreaming.


	2. Taking it Slow

**Taking it Slow**

* * *

When Barry woke up the next morning, he could sense a presence hovering over him, just like he had yesterday with Cisco and Dr. Snow when they had been standing near his bedside. When he opened his eyes, it was to find Iris staring at him, her face only maybe a foot away from his own.

"Jesus!" Barry gasped, putting a hand to his heart.

Iris leaned back then, jumping slightly at his outburst.

"You're awake!" she declared happily.

"I am _now_ ," he said irritably, "Why were you leaning over me like that?"

"Bar, you have no idea how badly I've wanted to shake you awake all morning, but I promised Caitlin I'd let you sleep."

"I would rather you just wake me up next time," Barry said, "Just poke me or something. Don't…don't hover over me like that. It's creepy."

"Sorry, Bar," she laughed, "It's a hard habit to break. I've been hovering over your bedside for nine months."

Barry shuddered slightly. It wasn't so much the thought of Joe or Iris staying near his bedside that bothered him. It was everyone else. The thought of laying in a bed, no control over his body, made him feel vulnerable. The thought of people touching him, handling his lifeless body as they cared for him was kind of creepy when he really thought about it.

Or maybe it was just the first impressions he had gotten from the STAR Labs team. Cisco seemed alright, but the other two…Dr. Snow looked at Barry as if he was some sort of interesting specimen to be studied. He appreciated her taking care of him, but there was something about her that seemed…hard. Businesslike. She seemed more like a research scientist to him than she did a caretaker.

And Dr. Wells.

Barry didn't know how to feel about Dr. Wells. The man had been his lifelong idol for years, but upon meeting him, Barry couldn't help but feel uncomfortable around the doctor. Maybe it was just nerves. After years of waiting to meet him, of course it would be nerve-wracking to be around him at first. Also, it didn't help that Barry had met him when he was going through a very stressful and emotional moment of his life. Who wants to meet their idol when they've just woken up from a nine-month coma and their whole world had just been flipped upside down?

There was something else about Wells, though. A look in his eye. An edge to his voice. Something about him creeped Barry out. He looked at Barry with an almost possessive look in his eyes, and Barry often found himself internally recoiling under his gaze. There was something really off about Harrison Wells. Anyone who spent more than two seconds with the guy could tell you that.

"How are you feeling?" Iris asked him nervously.

"Tired," Barry grumbled, closing his eyes with half a mind to go back to sleep.

"Oh no," Iris said, as if reading his mind, "You've wasted enough time sleeping, Barry Allen. I want to enjoy some time with you while you're conscious."

"Dr. Snow told you to let me sleep," Barry groaned, still not opening his eyes.

"Yes, but I'm too impatient," she said, "And it's past ten. You've slept long enough."

"'m still tired," he mumbled, covering his eyes.

"How can you possibly be tired?!" she asked incredulously, "You've been sleeping for nine months!"

"Yeah, well I didn't sleep too well last night," he said quietly, covering his eyes with his arm.

He remembered then what had kept him up, and he pulled his hands away from his face to look at them. They were completely still. No vibrating. No shaking. Not even a slight tremor. When he looked up, it was to find Iris frowning at him.

"Caitlin said you were having muscle spasms last night," she said seriously.

"Yeah, they kept me up for a bit," he admitted, "But I don't seem to have any right now, so that's good."

"It's not going to get you out of a physical, though," Dr. Snow said as she entered the room, "I'm going to have to run all my tests again."

"I'll just leave for a bit then," Iris said awkwardly before standing up to leave and give them some privacy.

Barry was grateful. He had a feeling he hadn't been given too much privacy when he was in a coma. They didn't even have him in a separate room. His bed was set out in the main lab area, which he thought was strange. They all were just going about their business, working in the lab around his unconscious body? That was just weird. The doctor assured him it was only so they could keep a close eye on him, but Barry still didn't like the idea. They had a medical bay. They should have set up his bed in there. It would have been way more private.

The doctor spent the entire morning running all her tests. Barry was grateful when she finally removed his catheter, and he was extremely thankful to find that he didn't have any issues with bladder control. He had enough things going on right now without adding incontinence to the list. That would have been so embarrassing.

"You must take your job very seriously," Barry said to the doctor as she was assessing his range of motion.

"That's a good thing, right?" she said stiffly.

"Yeah, I guess," he said, "I just noticed you don't really smile a lot."

She looked at him seriously then.

"My fiancé just died," she said flatly, "My once promising career in bioengineering is over. And my boss is in a wheelchair for the rest of his life."

"Oh," Barry said.

He thought about everything she had told him for a moment, trying to understand.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

She looked at him with a confused expression.

"I mean," he said awkwardly, "I noticed that you guys seem to be the only ones here at STAR Labs now, and of course I noticed that Dr. Wells was in a wheelchair now, but I didn't want to ask."

"Oh," she said, understanding, "I forgot. Of course, you wouldn't know about what happened."

She bit her lip, not sure how to tell him.

"The same night you were struck by lightning, the particle accelerator exploded."

Barry's eyes widened.

"W-what?" he said, shocked, "It exploded?"

He had been trying to remember what happened the night he was struck. The last thing he remembered was being in his lab. Now the memory came rushing back to him. He vaguely remembered a news report of the particle accelerator malfunctioning, of STAR Labs scrambling to shut it down. And then, nothing. He must have been struck right at the same time. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it wasn't a coincidence.

"Did the lightning striking me have something to do with the particle accelerator?" he asked quietly.

The doctor bit her lip and looked away from him.

" _Did it_?" he asked, louder this time.

She looked him in the eye then and nodded, giving him a sad look.

"I'm so sorry, Barry," she said, "We don't know anything for sure, but we suspect that the lightning was formed by the particle accelerator."

Barry nodded thoughtfully, looking away from her then. At least she was being honest with him. He didn't really know how to feel about it. These people had saved his life, yes, but what she was essentially telling him was that they were the ones who had done this to him in the first place.

"I hurt a lot of people that night," a voice said from the doorway.

Barry looked over to see Dr. Wells entering the room. He seemed to have a strange habit of sneaking up on people, of joining in their conversations without announcing his presence first. It really just kind of added to his creepiness factor.

Dr. Wells wheeled over to them then, to where Barry was sitting upright on the edge of his bed.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am, Mr. Allen," he said, "I only ever intended to do good with my invention. I never intended for any of this to happen. I was recovering myself at St. Andrews when I heard about your case and decided to help you. I saw it as a chance to help at least one person I had hurt."

Barry nodded at him.

"I know you didn't mean for this to happen," Barry said quietly, "I forgive you."

Did he, though? Dr. Wells may have only had good intentions, but that didn't change the fact that his failure had cost Barry nine months of his life. That wasn't something that was easily forgiven and forgotten. They had saved his life, though, so Barry wasn't going to hold it against them—at least not openly.

* * *

Caitlin finished her assessment and then left to find Iris to tell her she could return to Barry's bedside. She found Iris in Cisco's workshop. None of them knew Iris very well, but Cisco probably knew her the best. They weren't super close or anything, but they had gotten to a point where they were at least comfortable in each other's company.

Iris had spent so much time at STAR Labs that the others had gotten quite used to her presence. It was strange. They knew Iris better than they knew Barry. Barry had been there the entire time, but obviously they hadn't gotten much of a chance to get to know him. To them, Barry was somewhat of a stranger, and they only knew what Iris had told them about him.

"Iris," Caitlin said, "I need to talk to you quick before you go back by Barry."

Iris looked at her seriously, a worried expression on her face.

"Is something wrong?" she asked immediately.

"No," Caitlin assured her quickly, "No, nothing's wrong. I just realized, I've talked to you and Joe a lot about how to care for a patient in a prolonged coma, but I've never discussed with either of you what to expect in the post-coma stage. We never talked about what would happen when Barry wakes up."

"What do you mean?" she asked, "Barry's awake now. What's to discuss?"

"We have to anticipate some side effects," Caitlin said, "He said he was having muscle spasms. There might be other effects from the lightning or the coma."

"Like what?" Iris asked nervously.

"Balance seems to still be an issue for him," the doctor told her, "He's still pretty unsteady on his feet, and it may take him a while before his motor functions come back. The big thing, though, is the mental effects from the coma. He seems to be swallowing fine and speaking clearly, so that's good, and he doesn't seem confused or anything. His memory is excellent, which is surprising. I expected him to be a bit more confused. However, it's common for coma patients to have some other problems when they first wake up."

"What kinds of problems?" Iris asked worriedly.

"In many cases, post coma patients sometimes may express anger, suspicious behavior, irrational fear, or abnormal expressions of sexuality," the doctor told her, "Those are the most common problems at least. Now, I haven't observed any of these in Barry so far, but I don't know him as well as you do. Have you noticed anything different about Barry? Anything that seems out of character for him?"

Iris shook her head slowly.

"No," she said, "I mean, he seemed a bit irritable when he woke up this morning, but I _was_ kind of hovering over him and stopping him from going back to sleep, so I don't think it was necessarily unwarranted."

"Okay," Caitlin said, nodding thoughtfully, "Just be on the lookout for any strange behavior, okay? Watch him closely and let me know if he starts acting strangely, even after he leaves here and you take him home."

Iris nodded.

"I will," she said.

They were all distracted from their discussion, though, when they suddenly heard a loud crash come from the cortex.

* * *

Both of the doctors had left the room after his checkup, and Barry had assumed Dr. Snow had left to go get Iris, but it was taking her a while. Feeling impatient—and also really wanting to stretch his stiff legs—Barry decided to stand up and walk over to find them, himself. They couldn't have gone that far, right? Besides, he had only seen the cortex so far, and he was anxious to finally see the rest of STAR Labs. He had waited half his life to finally see the facility, after all.

He also had a jittery restlessness in him he couldn't quite explain. A moment ago, he had been tired and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Now, he suddenly had an irrational urge to move, like he had all this pent up energy that he need to expend. As soon as he stood up, Barry felt that energy increase. It was a strange feeling, but it felt good. Kind of like the little caffeine high you get from your coffee in the morning. Energetic, but just a little bit jittery and uncomfortable at the same time. It was different, though. It was a feeling he had never felt before. He felt like he could do anything, like he could run a marathon or something.

After carefully making sure he had gotten his balance, Barry took a step forward to go search for the others. The next thing he knew he was across the room, slamming into the desk and knocking one of the computer monitors to the floor with an earsplitting crash—falling over, himself, in the process.

From where he was on the floor, Barry looked back behind him to where the bed was. He had crossed the room in what seemed like a second. His arm was bleeding from where the IV had ripped out of it. He had meant to pull the IV stand along with him, but now he could see it laying on the floor, having tipped over when he crossed the room.

Barry had only a couple seconds to wrap his mind around it, though, before the others came running into the room.

"Oh, my God!" Iris said, rushing over to where he was on the floor, "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," Barry said shakily, "I don't know what happened. I just ended up on the floor. I don't…"

He was so confused. He didn't even remember crossing the room. One second he was by the bed. The next he was crashing into the desk. It was like he blacked out somewhere in between.

"I think I may have hit my head," he confessed to them, "I don't remember crossing the room. Something must have happened."

The other three all exchanged worried looks.

"Come on, Barry," Caitlin said, helping him up, "Let's get you back to bed. I'm sorry. We shouldn't have left you alone."

"No, I'm sorry," he apologized, sitting down on the bed and rubbing his eyes, "I knew I wasn't supposed to get up on my own. I didn't think it'd be a big deal. I'm so sorry about the computer. I still don't know how I knocked it over. I really don't remember crossing the room. One minute I was standing by the bed, and the next…I must have blacked out or something."

Had he lost his balance? Had he been deliriously stumbling around knocking stuff over without remembering it? That must have been what happened. It was the only explanation. It wasn't the balance thing that scared Barry, though. It was the fact that he didn't remember it. He didn't remember tipping over the IV stand or crossing the room. He remembered hitting the desk, though. That had hurt like hell. He must have hit it pretty damn hard. He must have hit his head, too. That was why he couldn't remember it.

Caitlin palpated his head gently, but she didn't feel any bumps, and Barry didn't feel any places that were tender when she pressed on them.

"Barry, I don't think you hit your head," she said gently, "I think you just had a lapse in memory. Your brain is still healing, and it's to be expected."

Barry frowned at her.

"But I feel fine," he said, "I still feel like myself, and I was fine all day yesterday. I…"

He was so confused. He really did feel fine, and here she was telling him he had some kind of mental problem. He wanted to deny it, but deep down, he knew he couldn't. Deep down, he knew something was very wrong. What had just happened to him was not normal, and the doctor's explanation was the only one that made sense.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, dude," Cisco said, "You just woke up from a coma. You're allowed to be confused."

Dr. Snow nodded.

"It's a very common side effect in coma patients, Barry," she said, "You only just woke up yesterday. You need to give your brain time to heal."

Barry nodded and looked down at his lap. He felt so stupid, sitting there all confused with the three of them looking at him. He felt like a child or something.

"You must be hungry," Iris said, changing the subject quickly as she sensed Barry's discomfort, "Do you want some breakfast? My dad went out to get us some smoothies since you can't have solid food yet."

Barry smiled gratefully at her. He was actually _very_ hungry. Starving actually, even though he had "eaten" last night. Caitlin had him drinking these gross liquid meals, saying it would take him a while before he could eat solid foods again. His digestive system had grown so accustomed to liquid tube feedings, so now he was on a liquid only diet until he transitioned back to a normal diet. That's probably why he was so hungry. Liquid meals are fine calorie-wise, but they don't exactly keep you feeling full for long.

When Joe returned with their smoothies, Barry was grateful they didn't immediately mention his fall. He knew Iris or someone was going to tell him about it eventually, but he was glad that they didn't do it right in front of him. Sure enough, after they had finished their smoothies and Dr. Snow was giving him one of her liquid meals to drink when he said he was still hungry, Barry noticed Iris pull her father aside and could hear them whispering worriedly in the corner.

He tried to block it out, though, as he drank his liquid meal. It was disgusting, but he found that he was _still_ hungry after it. He didn't say anything, though. There was no way he was actually that hungry. His stomach felt full after all. It was just a mental thing, his mind playing tricks on him again. He doubted he could even fit more in his stomach if he wanted to, so he ignored it.

After breakfast, Caitlin took him down to their radiology lab to run another set of scans.

"Strange," she said, "Everything still looks normal. I don't know why you're having cognitive episodes. Your brain scans look fine."

"Maybe it was just a one-time thing," Barry said hopefully, "I mean, I walked here just fine. I didn't even have any balance problems. Maybe it was just because I was still tired and had just woken up."

It wasn't entirely true, though. Barry hadn't felt tired when he had stood up from bed. He had felt the opposite. He had had lots of energy. He didn't tell her that, though. He'd rather believe that that was the reason for his incident and not something else.

"Maybe," she said uncertainly, "I should keep you here longer for observation, though."

"Please, don't," Barry said, frowning, "I really don't want to stay here. No offense or anything, but I really was hoping to go home today."

"I don't know, Barry," she said, "I'd feel better if you let me monitor you for a few days."

"Are my vitals bad?" he asked.

"No," she said slowly, "Your heartrate is still high, but that seems to have become your baseline now. Otherwise, they all seem normal. Great, actually."

"And there was nothing else physically wrong with me?" he continued.

"I guess not," she said uncertainly, "But—"

"Then I should be able to go home if I want to," he insisted, "Joe and Iris can keep an eye on me for any mental stuff. They both took off of work for the rest of the week, and I'm sure they'll be watching me annoyingly closely. They'll tell you if there's anything wrong."

The doctor sighed.

"Fine," she said, "You can go home today, but I expect you to come in for daily checkups. I'm not going to let you just go home without at least coming back for follow up visits."

"Deal," Barry said, smiling.

* * *

As they were driving home, Joe asked Barry if he wanted to stop at the precinct to say hi to everybody, but Barry said no. He didn't feel like being swarmed by all of his coworkers right now, especially if he might still be having some cognitive side effects from his coma. Joe nodded understandingly.

"Actually," Barry said suddenly, "I'd really like to go to Iron Heights to see my dad."

Joe sighed heavily.

"Barry…" he said.

"He hasn't seen me for nine months," Barry said firmly, "I need to visit him."

"Barry, I don't know," Joe said, "You should really go home and rest."

"You were all for me going to the precinct two seconds ago," Barry pointed out angrily, "I should be able to go see my dad then. I think that's more important, isn't it?"

"Bar," Joe said painfully.

"Did anyone even call him to tell him I woke up?" Barry asked suddenly, "Did you guys even _tell_ him?"

Joe and Iris both looked at each other. The answer was quite obvious.

"I'm going to see him," Barry said firmly then, and he wouldn't let Joe or Iris talk him out of it.

When they stopped outside of Iron Heights, Joe and Iris eyed Barry nervously. Iris offered to go in with him, neither of them wanting him to go in alone, but Barry insisted he was fine as he got out of the car and walked into the large building on his own. Neither Joe nor Iris had ever gone to visit his father with him, and Barry actually preferred it that way. His visits with his dad were private. It was his special time with his dad, and he didn't like the idea of anyone else intruding on it.

* * *

When Barry sat down in his usual chair at Iron Heights, he found himself nervous for some reason. Maybe he was still just on edge from whatever had happened this morning at STAR Labs, but it was more than that. It was the fact that his dad hadn't seen him for nine months. To Barry, it had been about a week since he had last seen his father, but to his dad, it had been much longer.

He was nervous to see what affect it had had on him. His dad didn't have anyone else to visit him, and it must have been some of the loneliest nine months of his life, stuck in prison, not knowing if he would ever see his son again.

Barry was the only family he had left. He shuddered to think about what it would have been like for his dad if he had never woken up. His father was the strongest person he knew, but if he had lost his son for good, Barry didn't know if his father's heart would have been able to take it. It would have broken him.

Barry just hoped that he wasn't about to find out that it already had. He hoped his father had held on for these nine months and not lost himself over the uncertainty of not knowing if he was ever going to see him again. After all, with coma patients, the rule generally was that the more time that passes with them not waking up, the less likely they're ever going to come out of it. Barry just hoped his dad hadn't lost hope while he was waiting for him.

His dad burst into tears when he saw Barry sitting there. He quickly picked up the phone as soon as he sat down.

"I didn't even want to dare hope that it was you," he cried into the phone, "When they told me I had a visitor, I was trying not to get my hopes up."

"I'm so sorry for worrying you," Barry said, tears welling in his own eyes, "For not coming to visit you."

"I think you had a pretty good excuse," his dad laughed, wiping his eyes, "When did you wake up?"

"Yesterday," Barry answered.

"Yesterday?!" Henry said, his eyes going wide, "And you're already up and walking around?"

"They said I was okay," Barry told him, "I'll have to take it easy for a while, but they said I could go home."

"The hell kind of doctors are these?" his dad said irritably.

Barry frowned at him.

"Well, if you feel that way, then maybe I'll just go back to STAR Labs," he joked.

Henry laughed.

"No, no," he chuckled, "I'm so happy to see you. It just seems a bit crazy to me. That's all. Don't you _dare_ leave. I've been going crazy for nine months and four days waiting for you to wake up." **[1]**

Barry was sad to hear that his dad had been counting the days he had been in a coma. It must have occupied his every thought for the last nine months. Joe and Iris had told him that his father hadn't even been allowed to see him. Before they could arrange for a chaperoned visitation, Barry had been transferred to STAR Labs, and prison hospital visitations were only allowed to take place in hospitals. Henry hadn't been allowed to see his comatose son the entire time he was out.

"I'm so sorry I worried you," Barry said sadly.

"It's okay," his father assured him happily, "It's not your fault."

Henry laughed lightly then.

"Although, I'd like to know what you were thinking, holding onto a metal chain during a lightning storm," his dad teased.

The memory came rushing back to Barry then. He had been trying to close his skylight, and he had grabbed onto the metal chain attached to it to close it before too much water got in. The floor had already been soaked, and the power had gone out just after he had heard the news report about STAR Labs scrambling to shut down the accelerator.

He vaguely remembered seeing something outside his window just before everything happened, but he couldn't remember what. It must have been the particle accelerator exploding. He had pulled on the chain only a few times before something had caused him to stop. He had seen something, something impossible, but the memory of it was murky and he couldn't recall it now. Whatever it was, it had scared him, though. He had then heard the rolling of thunder above him before he ever saw any lightning, which was strange because lightning usually precedes thunder, and then…nothing. Everything went blank after that.

"You okay?" his dad asked, no longer laughing.

He was looking at Barry with a concerned expression on his face.

"Fine," Barry said, "The memories of that night are just a little foggy. I'm still trying to piece it together."

His father gave him a sympathetic look.

"How are you feeling?" he asked worriedly, "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm good," Barry told him, "Just trying to wrap my head around things yet. It's a strange feeling, waking up to find that nine months has passed."

Henry gave him a surveying look, not looking like he really believed him.

"Any side effects?" he pressed, "You just got out of a coma, Barry. You can't possibly expect me to believe that you're completely fine."

Barry sighed.

"I don't know," he said, "It's strange."

"What's strange?" his father asked concernedly.

Barry shook his head.

"I don't know," he said again, "I just…feel different, and…I had a little incident this morning."

"What happened?" his dad asked seriously.

"I blacked out," Barry told him in a strained voice, "I…I don't know. I tried to get out of bed, but I must have still been disoriented. I don't remember what happened. All of a sudden I was on the floor."

"You passed out?" his dad asked worriedly.

Barry shook his head.

"No," he said, "I didn't pass out. I just…I don't remember how I got there. One second I was by the bed, and the next I was on the other side of the room. It was like I just didn't remember crossing the room. It seemed to happen so fast for me, like I crossed the room in a second. And last night, I…"

"You what, Barry?"

"I think I was hallucinating," Barry admitted, "Or dreaming or something. My hand, it did this thing. It was shaking and…"

Barry sighed heavily.

"It's stupid," he said quietly, "I was just dreaming. I had to be."

"Did you tell your doctor about it?" Henry asked him seriously.

"She knows," he said, "She said it was just muscle spasms, nothing to worry about."

"Well, _I'm_ worried," his dad said, "It sounds to me like you should still be at STAR Labs."

Barry shook his head.

"No," he said, "Joe and Iris are going to monitor me at home. They're waiting for me in the car right now actually. They're going to take me home after this, and they're probably going to make me rest once I'm there."

"Well, that's good," his dad said, still frowning, though, "You need to make sure you get plenty of rest so your brain can heal. That's extremely important. You're probably going to be a little fatigued at first. Most coma patients need a lot of sleep while they're recovering."

Barry nodded.

"I'm not really all that tired, though," he said, "I feel like I have a lot of energy."

Henry raised his eyebrows.

"That's strange," he said, "But good, I guess. It must mean you're bouncing back pretty quickly."

Barry smiled at him.

"I hope so," he said, "To me, it feels like just a few days ago, everything was normal. For everyone else, nine months has passed. I hope I can get things back to normal again quickly."

"Just make sure you take it easy," his father said gently, "You don't want to run yourself ragged by trying to move too fast."

Barry nodded.

"I'll take it slow," he said.

Henry smiled at him.

"I'm so glad you're okay, son," he said tearfully, "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't woken up."

Barry smiled and put his hand up on the glass between them.

"I love you, dad," he said quietly into the phone.

Henry put his hand up to the glass over Barry's.

"I love you, too, son," he whispered, "I love you, too."

* * *

"I'm still hungry," Barry said, frowning at his empty glass.

" _Still?!"_ Iris asked incredulously, "Caitlin said just one of these drinks would fill you up. You just finished your fourth one, and you're _still_ hungry?!"

"I think just one more should do it," Barry told her.

"I don't know, Bar," Joe said unsurely, "I think the hunger is more in your head. I'm afraid if you have another one, you'll puke."

Barry sighed.

"Alright then."

He really _did_ still feel hungry, though. He was probably just tired and was mistaking it for hunger. That energy that he was bursting with this morning had now worn off, and Barry found himself yawning repeatedly as it got into the later evening.

"You're probably just tired," Iris told him, thinking along the same lines, "It's eight o'clock. You haven't rested at all today, and Caitlin said you should rest as much as possible."

"Yeah, my dad said the same thing," Barry said, stifling another yawn.

"You should go to bed," Joe said, "Get a good night's sleep in your own bed for once."

Barry nodded and then got up from his seat at the table to walk towards the stairs.

"Goodnight," he said to them.

They both said their goodnights back to him, and Barry climbed the stairs. As soon as he was gone, Joe looked at his daughter.

"What do you think?" he asked uncertainly.

"I don't know," she said slowly, "He seems like himself for the most part. Maybe just a little off, but nothing too strange, aside from his appetite."

"How many of those liquid meals did he drink today?" Joe asked her.

Iris thought about it for a moment.

"He had one this morning at STAR Labs, two right when we got home, two for lunch, one as a snack, and _four_ just now for dinner," she recalled.

"So he had ten of them in one day?" Joe summarized, his eyes widening slightly.

Iris nodded.

"And Caitlin said just three or four in a day would be enough," she told him.

"That's strange," Joe said seriously, "Something's not right there. He can't possibly be that hungry."

"Maybe it's another cognitive side effect," Iris suggested, "His brain might be telling him he's hungry, even when he's not."

"We'll have to keep an eye on it," Joe said seriously, "And we should tell Dr. Snow about it tomorrow. Barry has an appointment with her in the morning."

Iris nodded her agreement. They were both taking monitoring Barry very seriously. They had just got him back, and they were extremely happy to have him home, but both of them were worried that something else was going to happen, that something would go wrong. Barry may be awake now, but he still had a lot of recovering and readjusting to do, and Joe and Iris were both determined to help him through it any way that they could.

* * *

 **[1] Barry was in a coma for exactly nine months and three days, according to the original pilot script.**


	3. Please Don't Tell Anyone

**Please Don't Tell Anyone**

* * *

It was his second morning waking up from the coma, and when Barry first opened his eyes and found himself to be in his old bedroom at Joe's house, for a moment, everything felt normal. Then it all came back to him. Waking up in STAR Labs, having everyone pestering over him, Joe and Iris taking him home with them because he couldn't be left alone at his apartment just yet. It was still a strange feeling. He had to keep reminding himself that it was October now—that nine months had passed by without him.

And then Barry felt it. The same sensation he had felt two nights before. He held his hand up in front of him and, once again, couldn't believe his eyes. He blinked several times, but no matter what he did, his hand kept vibrating. He sat up in bed, swinging his legs over the side and planting his feet on the floor, sitting up so he could know for sure that he was awake—that he wasn't dreaming.

No matter how long Barry stared at it, no matter how many times he blinked or gave his hand an impatient shake, his hand didn't change. It was still a blur as it vibrated uncontrollably. Barry took a deep breath.

No. His hand wasn't vibrating. It was just shaking. His brain was playing tricks on him again. He only _thought_ it was vibrating. Using his non-vibrating hand, Barry reached over to his bedside table and grabbed the bottle of flexeril Caitlin had prescribed him. He quickly popped open the lid and tipped a pill out of the bottle before quickly tossing it in his mouth.

She said it would help with the cramps and spasms, and Barry hoped to God it worked fast because if it didn't, he was going to lose it. That is, if he hadn't already lost it. He was having _hallucinations_ for crying out loud!

Barry took several deep breaths, closing his eyes and trying to stay calm as he waited for his hand to stop vib—shaking. As he waited for it to stop _shaking_. It didn't. The medication wasn't working. Barry tried not to panic, but that idea was thrown to the winds when his other hand then started to vibrate as well.

"What's happening to me?" he asked quietly to himself, staring at his hands in fear.

He was losing his mind. This couldn't actually be happening. It couldn't be. Barry trembled in fear as he looked down at the blurred image of his hands. Only a moment later, though, he realized he wasn't just trembling in fear. His entire body was starting to shake uncontrollably.

Barry opened his mouth to call for Joe or Iris—to call for help—but no sound came out. He was too petrified to even speak. Barry lowered his back to the bed, and closed his eyes, waiting desperately for it to just _stop_. He wasn't sure how long he laid there, but after a while, the shaking finally ceased. Barry let out a sigh of relief as he hesitantly sat up in bed again.

Had it been real? Had it actually happened? Or was it just in his head? It had to be in his head, right? It was impossible that it was real. Granted, this was coming from a guy who spent half his life chasing down the impossible, but it would be ridiculous to assume that he, himself, would _become_ the impossible. Really, what were the odds? Of all people this could be happening to, what were the odds that it was happening to him? Then again, what were the odds of being struck by lightning _indoors_?

The soreness in his muscles felt real, though. They were aching horribly in the aftermath of whatever it was that had just happened to him. It must have been more spasms. He would have to talk to Caitlin about it, see if she could prescribe him something stronger to prevent it or if he could take a higher dose of the flexeril. He didn't want to take more now because he was trying to follow his doctor's directions. He wasn't sure yet if he wanted to tell her about his altered perception of it. Would she think he was crazy? Would she readmit him for further testing?

Barry had spent half his life being told that he was crazy and delusional. He didn't want to add to that stigma by alerting everyone to the fact that he was having post-coma hallucinations. He didn't want to see the way Joe and Iris would look at him, the way they would treat him if they thought he wasn't in his right mind.

If he were diagnosed with some kind of post-lightning psychosis, he would never get his dad out of prison. If he ever managed to finally achieve an appeal on his dad's case, no court room would ever take him seriously if he testified. They would eat him alive for his supposed mental break.

Barry got out of bed slowly, making sure he made his way over to the bathroom at a slow pace. He didn't want to have another blackout. He didn't want to suddenly find himself on the other side of the room again.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to even tell Joe and Iris that he was having more muscle spasms. He didn't want to worry them. They already seemed to be watching him closely enough. He knew they had checked on him several times over the course of the night and that they were watching him closely during his waking hours. He didn't want to give them more reasons to worry.

He also didn't want to look stupid. He didn't want to tell them he was afraid of a few muscle spasms and make a big deal out of it. He wasn't going to let _his_ worries become _their_ worries.

Barry was distracted with his thoughts as he was getting ready for the day. He wasn't paying any attention to what he was doing, which was probably why his hand slipped while he was shaving.

"Ugh," Barry groaned when he saw the small nick on his face from where the razor had slipped.

He grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the small cut on his cheek before finishing the rest of his face. He wondered absently who had shaved for him the entire time he was in a coma. Probably Dr. Snow, or maybe Joe or Iris. He wondered how involved they were in his care. Had they done those things for him? Or had they just let the doctor do them? He found that he didn't really care either way, as long as they didn't bathe him. They may be his family, but there were some boundaries that just shouldn't be crossed.

After putting the razor away and wiping the shaving cream residue from his face, Barry's eyes suddenly widened as he lowered the towel from his face. He leaned closer to the mirror, hardly believing what he was seeing.

The cut was gone.

All that remained was a slight red mark on his face that was barely noticeable. That was…strange. Maybe he hadn't cut himself as bad as he thought. The color drained from Barry's face as he thought about it. Maybe he hadn't cut himself _at all_. Maybe he had just hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe his mind had been just playing another trick on him.

He rushed over to the garbage can then. He had to be sure. It was still there, though. The tissue was still there, and there was blood on it. Slowly, and somewhat shakily, Barry went back to the mirror again. The mark was completely gone now, not even a reddened area left behind to indicate it had ever been there. He reached up and touched it. The skin was completely smooth like the rest of his face. It was _impossible_.

Barry's attention was pulled away from the mirror, though, when there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Barry?" Joe's voice came through the door, "Are you almost ready? We don't want to be late for your appointment with Dr. Snow."

"Y-yeah," Barry responded shakily, cringing at how strained his voice sounded.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked through the door, clearly having heard the edge to Barry's voice.

Barry cleared his throat.

"Yeah," he said, less shaky this time, "I'm…fine. Almost ready."

"Okay then…" Joe said, and Barry could still detect a slight hint of concern etched in his voice, but Joe walked away nonetheless.

* * *

Barry felt nervous and jittery as he sat on the medical bed in STAR Labs. At least he was in the med bay now, and it was just him and Dr. Snow. The others were all waiting just outside in that one big room. The cortex, they called it.

"Joe told me you've been eating a lot," the doctor said absently as she was taking his blood pressure.

Barry nodded.

"I've been feeling really hungry for some reason," he told her honestly.

She looked at him then.

"I suppose that's good," she said thoughtfully, "A good appetite is a good sign, especially just after waking up from a coma. But they told me you had ten of those supplement drinks yesterday."

"Oh," Barry said quietly.

He hadn't realized they had been counting. Apparently, they were watching him even closer than he thought.

"I don't want you to restrict yourself, though," she clarified, "If you're hungry, it's probably your body's way of telling you what you need to recover. I expect your appetite will return to normal with time. Your body is still adjusting to everything, so I'm not too worried about it. Just don't drink so many that you're going to make yourself sick, okay?"

Barry nodded gratefully.

He would follow her advice, but at the same time, he didn't want to worry Iris or Joe. He found himself deciding to try harder to control his appetite around them. It would be one less thing for them to worry about and to report back to Dr. Snow.

"I um…I had some more spasms this morning," he said quietly, "Worse this time. It felt like my whole body was spasming."

Her eyes widened.

"Are you sure they were just spasms?" she asked, "Your hands is one thing, but…"

Barry shrugged and looked at the floor, not sure what to tell her. He didn't want to say anything that would give away the fact that he was hallucinating.

"They were…stronger," he said after a moment, "Like, _really_ strong."

Her eyes widened in concern. Suddenly, the doctor was rushing to grab things from the cupboard, returning with a small monitor and a mess of wires, which she then started sticking to his temples.

"What are you doing?" he asked her.

"An EEG," she answered, "Barry, what you're describing doesn't sound like just muscle spasms to me. It sounds like a seizure."

"A seizure?" he asked in shock.

He hadn't even considered that possibility.

"Did you lose consciousness?" she asked worriedly as she was hooking up the monitor.

"I…I don't think so," he said slowly.

Had he? He had laid back against the bed when it was happening. What if he _had_ lost consciousness and just didn't realize it? That happened to epileptics sometimes. Sometimes people didn't even realize they were having seizures because they didn't remember it. That would at least explain what he saw. If he had been unconscious at the time, then that meant that what he was experiencing weren't hallucinations. It would mean he wasn't going crazy.

As scary as the prospect was, Barry almost hoped that it _was_ a seizure. He'd rather be having seizures than these hallucinations that had him questioning his sanity.

The doctor ran a wide range of tests, but she couldn't find any abnormalities. She told him this happily, but Barry couldn't help but be disappointed.

"You look upset," she observed, frowning at him.

"No," he said, pulling a smile up on his face, "No, that's good news, I guess."

She was still frowning at him.

"You guess?"

Barry sighed and offered her another small smile.

"What other tests did you have to run?" he asked her, changing the subject.

She gave him a thoughtful look for a moment, but then decided to let it go.

"I just have to change your bandage and check your incision," she said, pointing to his neck, "The stitches should be ready to come out in a couple days."

Barry nodded and then bared his neck to her so she could remove the bandage from his tracheostomy site. Her hands were cold on his skin as she slowly peeled the bandage off. Barry tensed when Dr. Snow suddenly gasped, her eyes widening as she looked at his neck.

That couldn't be good.

"What's wrong?" he asked her worriedly, "Is it infected or something?"

She shook her head, swallowing. She continued to look at his neck with an astonished look on her face.

Not wanting to wait for an answer, Barry quickly got up from the bed and made his way over to where there was a small mirror mounted on the wall. His eyes widened they landed on his neck.

There was no incision. All that was there were three small stitches in an otherwise smooth expanse of skin. Barry hadn't seen what it looked like before, but he knew it shouldn't look like this.

The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder and gently turned him around so she could look at it again.

"I…I don't believe it," she said quietly, still staring at his neck in disbelief.

Barry didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything as she stared at him. The doctor reached up and touched his neck.

"The stitches are still there, but the skin is completely healed…" she muttered.

"Maybe you just did a good job," Barry half joked.

Dr. Snow shook her head at him, her eyes still wide.

"Barry, there isn't even a _scar_ ," she said incredulously, "Just two days ago, there was an incision there."

"Well, maybe…" Barry trailed off, at a loss for any sort of explanation.

"No," she quietly, "There's no way. It's impossible. It's like your healing is accelerated, and the way your muscles grew instead of atrophying…Barry, your body is regenerating itself. I don't know how, but it _is_."

A small, breathy laugh escaped her lips. All Barry could do was stare at her, not really liking the sound of any of this for some reason.

"Oh my God," she said, smiling, "I can't believe this! I have to tell Dr. Wells!"

She turned to leave the room, but Barry grabbed her arm and pulled her back, stopping her from leaving.

"Don't," he said quietly, his voice pleading, "Please, don't…don't tell anyone else about this."

The smile slid from her face then.

"Are you crazy?!" she asked, "This is a huge medical discovery! We have to study it! Who knows what we might find out? What advances in medicine we could make!"

"Please," he said quietly, "I…I need you to keep this a secret. At least for now. I can't handle all of that. I just got out of a coma and found out I missed out on nine months of my life. I'm dealing with a lot right now, and I'm not ready to deal with all of this, too."

"Barry, I understand that," she said, "Really, I do, but I'm not rushing off to Science Showcase Magazine or anything. I just want to tell Dr. Wells. STAR Labs is great at keeping things confidential. It would stay in house, I promise."

Barry just shook his head.

"No," he said firmly, "No one else finds out about this besides you and me. If you want, I'll…I'll let you run tests, as many as you want. You can study me. Just please don't tell anyone about this. Really, you're my doctor, so you _have_ to keep my medical information private. As the patient, I'm telling you now, not a word about this to anyone else."

She gave him a pained look.

"Barry…" she said quietly.

" _Please_ ," he said again, "Can I trust you?"

 _Could_ he trust this woman? She was a complete stranger, and he was asking her to keep one hell of a secret, what was probably the biggest secret of his life. He knew he was being selfish, knew that if this was true; if his body really _was_ healing itself in this way, it could potentially change the way they looked at medicine in colossal ways, but Barry wasn't ready to deal with it yet. He could hardly wrap his mind around it, let alone everything else that was currently going on with him.

The doctor sighed and gave him a pained look.

"Okay," she said quietly, "I won't tell anyone."

Barry smiled gratefully at her.

"But we need to learn more about this," she insisted, "Not just for medicine, but for _your_ sake."

Barry nodded.

"Okay," he said quietly, "But not today. I…I can't deal with this right now. It's too much. I just need a little time."

She nodded understandingly at him, and he could tell that it pained her to do it, but she let it go for now. She let it go for his sake. Barry found himself trusting the doctor all the more for it.

After removing the remaining stitches from his neck, the doctor finished the rest of her checkup. Barry had insisted on her applying a new bandage to avoid suspicion. He felt guilty about it, like he was lying or something, but he didn't want to have to explain it to the others, and they were bound to notice that his dressings had been removed early and that he didn't even have a mark on his neck.

Barry found himself constantly running his fingers over the bandage in wonder. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. He had superhealing, for lack of a better word. If the doctor hadn't been just as amazed by it as he was, he probably would have thought he was imagining it or something. It explained what had happened this morning when he cut himself shaving. It hadn't been in his head. He had really healed that fast. The idea of it both amazed him and freaked him out at the same time.

Of all the impossible things he had researched and tracked down over the years, he had never found something quite like this. The possibilities and the advances in science that this could mean weren't lost on him. It was incredible. But it was frightening at the same time. This was _his_ body they were talking about. This was happening to _him,_ not some random stranger, and it was hard not to be afraid of it, especially considering everything else that was going on.

And then a sudden thought struck him. If he hadn't been imagining it when his cut healed within a few minutes, then what if he wasn't imagining the rest of it? What if his muscle spasms really _were_ more than just muscle spasms?

That was silly, though. It would be dumb of him to just jump to that conclusion based off the fact that his healing was a real phenomenon that was actually happening. That, at least, could be explainable in some way. When you're in a coma after all, your body tends to focus its energy on regenerating physically, directing energy that would be used mentally to other areas. It was weird, yet plausible, that he could have developed some sort of advanced regenerative physiologies during his time in a coma. That was maybe possible. Vibrating—at least the way that he seemed to be—was not. It wasn't physically possible. It had to be in his head.

Still, though, Barry couldn't help but wonder.

Barry was quick to leave STAR Labs after his checkup. He was grateful that Dr. Snow didn't say anything before they left. He noticed that she was staring at him in wonder as they were talking to everyone else about his recovery, but she kept silent about what the two of them had discovered.

He just hoped it stayed that way. She had agreed not to tell anyone else, but Barry wasn't sure if she was going to honor that promise. The urge to tell must have been tempting for her, and he half expected that she was still going to tell Dr. Wells and Ramon as soon as they left.

She had assured him that if she told them it would stay in house, but Barry trusted them about as much as he trusted her, which wasn't very much at the moment. He hardly knew them, and they didn't know him. They didn't have any personal connection to him, no friendship or rapport that they had to honor by keeping his secrets. Really, they had no motivation whatsoever to keep any of this a secret, aside from medical HIPAA laws that technically stated that they couldn't disclose his medical information.

However, Barry had a feeling that if they wanted to, they could find a way around that. They had to have faced a plethora of legal charges and law suits after the particle accelerator explosion, and they had found a way to navigate through all of that. The fact that their facility was even still somewhat operating told him that they would be more than capable of finding a way around HIPAA if they wanted to expose him and turn him into some science showcase freak.

For now, though, Barry didn't have any choice but to trust the doctor and hope that she would keep her word.

"What's this new medication Caitlin has you on?" Iris asked as they were driving home, "Carisoprodol. What's that?"

"Just a new muscle relaxant," Barry answered her dismissively, "The flexeril wasn't working very well."

Iris frowned at him and then looked back at the new bottle.

"Are you still having spasms?" she asked him.

"Just every once in a while. They're minor, though," he lied.

She nodded and then looked at the other new bottle.

"Phenobarbital?" she asked, looking sideways at him.

"Just another brain drug," he said quickly, taking the bottle from her, "It's supposed to help me sleep."

Caitlin had him on a whole bunch of medications. If he hadn't taken a basic pharmacology class in college, Barry would have no idea what any of them were for. Most of them, he knew, were supposed to help with brain function. The racetam medications she had him on were usually used to treat dementia, but he quickly learned that they had other medical uses as well, particularly with post coma patients.

He didn't really think any of them were doing anything, though. She had warned that some of them might make him drowsy, but he really had yet to experience that, or any side effects for that matter. He supposed that was a good thing, though, so he took them all as prescribed, whatever it took to make him recover faster.

Really, he didn't feel like he had much recovering to do, though. Sure, he had the muscle spasms every now and then, but overall, he felt completely fine. He hoped it wouldn't be too long that he would be working again. He just wanted to put this all behind him, to forget about the coma, the lost time, the scary muscle spasms, and the freaky healing thing, and just have life go back to the way it was. He just wanted to go back to his nice, normal life.

Little did he know, his life would never be normal again.


	4. New Record

**New Record**

* * *

Barry was really starting to wish that Joe and Iris would finally just give him a moment to himself. He thought as soon as he moved back into his apartment, he would be given some alone time, but he quickly found that wasn't the case. They still had yet to leave him alone.

Joe had paid the lease on the apartment the entire time Barry was incapacitated, something Barry was extremely grateful for. Nine months was a long time to pay rent for an apartment no one was using, and Barry was somewhat surprised Joe had paid for it for so long. He had even renewed the lease for another year after the previous lease had ended, meaning Joe had been fully prepared to continue paying for it for at least another year while Barry was in a coma.

Barry was shocked by that more than anything—that they had had so much faith in him. Joe hadn't known at the time if Barry was ever going to wake up, yet he had kept the apartment for him. Barry was determined to pay Joe back for the nine months' worth of rent as soon as possible, but it was going to be lot of money, and Joe told him he didn't have to. Barry was adamant about paying him back, though, and had already started setting money aside to repay him.

Thankfully, Barry didn't own a car, so he didn't have any car insurance bills racked up that he had to pay off. Any other bills that he normally had to pay were done via direct deposit, so Joe hadn't had to worry about them. Barry's bank account suffered for it, though. Nine months of unpaid sick leave while still paying for his usual bills hadn't exactly put him in debt, but it would take him a while to be as financially sound as he was before the lightning. He was anxious to get back to work soon. He couldn't really afford to extend his sick leave for much longer now, and he was looking forward to things just going back to normal again.

Barry was incredibly grateful when he entered his apartment to find that Joe and Iris had kept the place up. They had covered the furniture and dusted and cleaned everything regularly. His fridge was emptied out now, and the apartment was pretty hot and stuffy since it would have made no sense to have the AC running while no one was there, but other than that, everything was pretty much how he had left it.

"I'm so glad you're back," Iris said happily as she was removing the sheets from the furniture, "Coming here and maintaining your apartment was just depressing. I can't tell you how many times I cried in here while you were at STAR Labs."

"I'm sorry," Barry said quietly, feeling a well of guilt pool in his chest.

"Obviously, it's not your fault," she laughed, "You didn't ask to be struck by lightning."

"Still," Barry said, "I can't tell you how grateful I am for everything you and Joe did for me these last nine months."

It still felt weird saying it out loud. To him, it honestly didn't feel like nine months had passed. For Barry, it felt like it was just a few days ago he had been living in this apartment. His mind still kept thinking about trivial little things from nine months ago, like the Hendricks case he had been working on, or the Ortiz case that, in his mind, was supposed to be going to trial next week. By now, the case had long since been closed, though. What was even stranger for Barry was asking Joe about the cases and how they had turned out and having Joe not quite remember which cases he was talking about. To Barry, he and Joe had just been discussing them last week.

"We'll have to get you some groceries," Joe said as he walked out of Barry's small kitchen and back into the living room, "I don't think there's any food left in this place. We cleared out just about everything."

"Oh no!" Barry said, smacking his forehead.

"What?" Joe and Iris both asked urgently in unison.

"I had my Benvenuto's leftovers in there," Barry said miserably.

"So?" Iris asked in confusion.

"So, I was saving it," Barry said in a small voice.

Joe and Iris both laughed.

"You just lost nine months of your life, and you're upset over a little chicken parmesan?" Joe asked in amusement.

Barry sighed.

"It was from Benvenuto's," he pouted.

Joe and Iris both laughed and shook their heads at him in amusement.

"Well, Barry, as soon as you're not on a strict medical diet, we'll take you to Benvenuto's to celebrate," Joe chuckled.

Barry grinned at him.

"Deal."

"In the meantime," Iris said, "We can go shopping to get you some groceries."

"I can do that myself," Barry said dismissively, "Don't worry about it."

Joe and Iris both looked at each other.

"Are you sure, Bar?" Joe asked, "We really don't mind helping."

"I'm sure," Barry said firmly, "I realize that to you guys, I've been completely dependent on other people for nine months, but to me, I just want everything to go back to normal again."

"We get that," Iris said, "We just worry about you."

"You don't have to," Barry assured her with a smile, "I'm awake now. You have nothing to worry about. You guys should really go home and get some rest. You've been babysitting me all week. It must be exhausting."

Iris looked like she was going to argue, but Joe put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Clearly, he had gotten the hint.

"Alright, Bar," he said quickly, "If you need anything, just give us a call, okay?"

Barry smiled and nodded.

"Thanks," he said, "Both of you."

Joe gave him a small smile and then gently pushed Iris out the front door to Barry's apartment.

"We shouldn't leave yet," Iris said worriedly, as they were walking down the hall in Barry's building, "What if something happens?"

"Barry's fine, Iris," her father assured her, "And I'm getting the sense that he really wants some space right now. We've been smothering him all week because we've missed him so much, but to Barry, no time has passed, and he's probably finding it all kind of overbearing."

"Well, can he blame us for wanting to spend time with him?" Iris asked in frustration.

Her father shook his head at her.

"Baby girl, we haven't given Barry even a moment to himself for an entire week," he reasoned, "He's handling everything amazingly well, but us smothering him all the time is just going to be one more thing for him to adjust to. He's going to have a hard time picking things up where he left off, especially at work. He doesn't need us breathing down his neck through the whole thing. He just needs our support."

Iris sighed.

"I guess you're right," she muttered, even though she didn't like it.

* * *

Barry walked over to check the front door to make sure they were really gone. The apartment was empty. He was alone. For the first time since he had woken up, Barry was truly alone. He walked back over to the couch and sat down, letting out a breath of relief. Barry really did appreciate everything they had done for him, but it also felt good to finally get a moment to himself for once.

As Barry sat there, it wasn't long before he raised his hand up to look at it. It was still. Not so much as a tremor ran through it. Barry stared at it and did his best to concentrate on the limb. It shook slightly, but it was at a normal speed. He took a deep breath and then tried again. He had gotten it to work a few times now, but it was still hard to do it willingly. It was more than just shaking his hand really fast, he had discovered. It required concentration and something he couldn't quite describe.

The easiest way to do it was for him to visualize a ball of energy in his chest, a sun-like sphere of power surrounding his heart, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could redirect that energy to his hand and…

Barry gasped when his hand started to vibrate. He stared at it in wonder, still not quite sure if what he was seeing was real. Over the last week, he had wondered to himself several times if he should let someone else see it, too, in order to confirm that it was, in fact, actually happening. Something stopped him, though. He wasn't sure whom he wanted to tell about it yet. Joe and Iris seemed like the obvious choice, but if he _was_ imagining it, then he would just look stupid or crazy when he tried to show them.

He thought about telling Dr. Snow about it, too, but she was already hell-bent on studying him for his healing capabilities. He didn't need to give her one more thing to get excited about.

No, for now, Barry was going to keep it to himself. At least, until he figured out what was actually happening to him.

Although a moment ago Barry had been looking forward to taking a nap in his freshly made bed, he now suddenly didn't feel tired. He suddenly didn't feel tired at all, as if some sort of energy had been reawakened now. A moment ago, he had been ready to pass out for an hour or two, and now he felt fidgety, like he couldn't sit still, as if remaining stationary was the most horrible pain in the world. He couldn't begin to understand why, but he suddenly felt like going for a walk or something. Maybe even a jog.

Dr. Snow had told him to take it easy, but she hadn't specifically said he couldn't go for light jog if he wanted to. He knew he shouldn't, but it was an urge Barry just couldn't shake. He always used to go for runs when he was feeling stressed out, ever since he was in high school, and when he was in college, Barry had gone for a run almost every single day. It was part of his routine, really.

Still bursting with energy, Barry quickly pulled on a pair of loose shorts and a t-shirt. He was glad he was alone in his apartment now and could make the decision to go for a run without any hassles. If he was still at Joe's house, Joe and Iris surely would have stopped him, even if he was feeling fine.

Barry grabbed his keys and locked his apartment door behind him as he left. As he walked down the sidewalk, towards the small park near his building where he usually ran, he could feel the energy buzzing impatiently through him. Normally, Barry didn't start running until he got to the park, but he couldn't help it. His body almost had a mind of its own as it pushed him to break out into a light jog down the sidewalk, trying to expend some of the pent up energy that was radiating through him. By the time Barry got to the park, he was almost full-on sprinting.

And it felt amazing!

His legs were still a little stiff from lying in a bed for nine months, and going for a run seemed to be exactly what they had been aching for. This was so much better than doing stretching exercises with Dr. Snow.

Barry had thought he wouldn't be able to run like this for a while. He thought he would probably be so stiff and out of shape that he'd waddle like a slow-ass duck when he got back into running, but he found the exact opposite to be true. His form was excellent! It was probably just as good as it used to be when he used to compete in track and cross country in high school.

The strange thing was, after all the concern Dr. Snow had expressed about his respiratory health, Barry didn't feel at all out of breath. In fact, he felt like he could run forever! He wasn't tired or winded at all! The muscles that had grown in his legs felt stronger, and his feet pushed powerfully off the ground with each stride. He wasn't even sweating yet, despite how hot it was today.

What Barry was perhaps the most amazed by, though, was his _speed_. Barry wished he had brought a timer or something with him because he doubted he had ever run this fast in his life, even in high school. He couldn't say for sure, but to him, it felt like he was running fast enough to compete in the _Olympics_ or something!

Now he _really_ wished he had brought his timer. Barry looked around him as he ran. Everything seemed to be going by him so fast, yet he could still see everything so clearly. This wasn't the first time that Barry had noticed an improvement in his eyesight since the coma. He had always had 20/20 vision, but now his eyesight seemed to be impossibly clear. _Better_ than 20/20. Maybe it had to do with his regenerative abilities or something. **[1]**

As Barry looked around him, he suddenly spotted something that made him skid to a halt in his tracks. A woman was crossing the street, and she had clearly not looked both ways because a truck was barreling right at her.

"Get out of the way!" Barry screamed at her, running off the path and towards the street, towards the woman.

He was way too far away from her, though, and she clearly hadn't heard his shout. In a panic, Barry raced towards her as fast as he could, knowing it was futile. He wasn't going to get there in time. She was going to get hit. Barry saw the woman's head turn, her eyes widening when she saw the truck that was about to hit her.

Suddenly, Barry felt a strange surge of electricity rush through his entire body, crackling through his veins like lightning. A second later, he was hitting something _hard._ Barry felt a horrible pain in his right wrist for a split second before he felt the rest of the pain. His entire body felt like it had been hit by a truck. Maybe he _had_ been hit by a truck!

Barry blinked a few times, his mind in a daze. It took a few seconds for the spots to clear out of his vision, but when they did, he found himself to be kneeling on the sidewalk, next to a building. His right wrist felt like there were a thousand knives stabbing into it. Curled up in his left arm, however, was a woman, who was groaning and clutching her neck.

"Are you okay?" Barry asked in concern, ignoring his own pain, which was now radiating throughout his entire body.

"Fine," she muttered, rubbing her neck, "I think you just gave me whiplash when you knocked me over."

She looked around her then and realized what had happened.

"You…You just saved my life," she said in shock.

Suddenly, several bystanders started slowly crowding around them, helping them to their feet. Barry gratefully stuck out his left arm—his good arm—and a man took it and helped him up off the ground. Barry groaned when he stood.

His legs didn't feel so great anymore. His whole body hurt like hell. He must have slammed into the side of the brick building after pulling the woman out of the way. He must have instinctively stuck out his arm to cushion the blow, but his wrist had snapped like a twig, and his body had still slammed hard into the brick wall. Thankfully, he had taken on most of the impact and the woman he had saved seemed to be fine, despite her sore neck.

After blinking a few more times and regaining his balance, Barry looked around him again. He hardly even heard the praise he was getting from the people around him for saving the woman's life. He was too preoccupied with figuring out _how_ he had done it.

Barry had to have been a good fifty yards away from the woman, and yet, in a split second, he had managed to not only get to her and pull her out of the way, but he had run them both so fast that they had made it all the way across the sidewalk, where they rendezvoused with the wall. Barry couldn't wrap his head around it.

He _had_ hit his head, though. It had smacked into the brick pretty hard when they made impact. Maybe he was just remembering the whole thing wrong. Barry gave himself a mental shake, and suddenly the words of the bystanders surrounding him reached his ears.

"….call an ambulance?" one man was saying.

Barry blinked at him.

"What?" he asked stupidly.

"Did you want me to call an ambulance?" the man asked him patiently, talking in a slow voice as if Barry was a four-year-old.

"No," Barry said quickly, "I'm fine. That's okay."

"Your head is bleeding," the man said, "And you seem a little dazed. You probably have a concussion. You should let me call an ambulance for you, son."

Barry shook his head vehemently.

"No, no," he said stubbornly, stumbling away from the man, "I'm alright."

"That's a pretty nasty looking wrist," a woman said suddenly, "It looks broken."

"It's fine," Barry insisted, not even sure why he was being so stubborn about this, "I'll go see my doctor and get it taken care of. I'll be fine."

Barry took a few more steps then, trying to break through the crowd that had congregated around him. Barry nearly cried out in shock, though, when he felt the sharp stabbing pain in his ankles. All the joints and tendons in his legs felt as if they had been torn apart. He must have really pushed himself to do so much damage.

Barry knew he needed to go to STAR Labs to see Dr. Snow, but he definitely wasn't going to get there on foot. He could call a cab, but he didn't have his wallet with him and wouldn't be able to pay for it. Barry sighed and pulled out his phone, dialing Joe's number as the crowd around him slowly dissipated.

He froze, though, before hitting the call button. If he called Joe and told him that he was hurt and he needed a ride to go see his doctor, Joe would go into worried father mode in an instant. He and Iris had only just left his apartment a half hour ago, and now Barry was already hurt and calling for help. They would make him move back into Joe's house for sure, thinking he was unable to spend less than a half hour alone without hurting himself.

Not to mention the fact that his wounds were already healing. Barry could feel it. His head wasn't throbbing as painfully, and the scrapes on his arm and his face were healing already. He couldn't explain that to Joe. He wasn't ready to tell Joe and Iris about the healing factor he and Dr. Snow had discovered.

Barry scrolled through the contacts on his phone until he paused on one.

Cisco Ramon.

Barry hardly knew the guy, but Ramon _had_ told him to call if he ever needed help with anything. Barry also really liked Cisco for some reason he couldn't explain. He didn't give off the same cold scientist-like vibes that Dr. Snow and Dr. Wells did. He seemed friendly and approachable enough.

Barry took a deep breath before hitting the call button.

* * *

 **[1] It is possible to have better than 20/20 vision. I have 20/15 vision, meaning I can see an object at 20 feet away that most people can only see at 15 feet away.**


	5. Speeding Up

**Speeding up**

* * *

"Yo," Cisco answered his phone.

"Hey, um Cisco?" Barry stuttered, "This is Barry. Barry Allen."

"I know who you are, man," Cisco laughed, "What's up?"

"I, um, I'm sorry to bother you," Barry said awkwardly before launching into a rant, "But you said I should call you if I need anything, and I _was_ going to just call Joe, but I know he'd make a bigger deal about it than it was, and I couldn't call Iris for the same reason, and I don't know. I guess I just thought of you and decided to—"

"Dude," Cisco said, "Slow down. You're talking so fast I can barely understand you."

Barry frowned. He hadn't thought he was talking that fast.

"So, I uh…" Barry said awkwardly, "I know I don't know you very well, and you've already done enough for me, but I kind of need a favor."

"Whatever you need, man," Cisco said cheerfully, "What's up?"

"I…I need a ride," Barry muttered, "I need a ride to STAR Labs. I'd take a taxi, but I left my wallet at home, and—"

"No problem," Cisco said immediately, cutting off his explanation, "Where are you at? I'll pick you up."

Barry sighed in relief.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, "I'm on the corner of Dalton and McKinley." **[1]**

"Okay, I'll be right there," Cisco said cheerfully.

"Thanks, Cisco," Barry said appreciatively before hanging up the phone.

Barry hardly knew Cisco, but the fact that he was willing to just drop everything and come pick him up, no questions asked, said a lot about the guy.

When Cisco pulled up a few minutes later, waving eagerly at him through his car window, Barry felt instantly relieved. Most of the people who had lingered after the incident were gone now, but there were a few who had insisted on waiting with him until his ride came. Sometimes, people in Central City were _too_ nice.

The grin slid from Cisco's face when Barry limped his way towards the car.

"Dude," Cisco said when Barry opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat, "What _happened_ to you?!"

"Just a little accident," Barry said dismissively, "It's kind of a long story that ends with me running headfirst into a brick wall."

Cisco stared at him with a confused look on his face.

"You ran," he said flatly, "into a wall."

Barry nodded.

"I just got a bit disoriented, I guess," he said quickly, "Maybe my depth perception is off or something. I thought I was a lot farther from the wall than I actually was."

Cisco laughed.

"Man, if I knew you better, I would give you so much shit for this," he chuckled.

Barry managed a small smile. He felt bad for lying. Well, really, he hadn't lied to Cisco. He had just left out some of the details. Really, _he_ didn't even know what had actually happened. It had all happened so fast, and he didn't even know where to begin to explain it.

So he didn't.

* * *

Joe sighed as he hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" Iris asked urgently, "Was it Barry? Is he okay?"

"It was Dr. Snow," Joe answered, "She said Cisco just brought him into STAR Labs. Barry begged her not to call me, but she promised me she'd keep me updated."

"Why is Barry there?" Iris asked worriedly, "We just left him at his apartment less than an hour ago."

"Apparently, Barry decided to go for a run after we left," Joe told her seriously, "He ran straight into a wall."

"What?!" Iris ejected, "Why the hell would he do _that_?! He knows he still has balance issues!"

"I guess he thought they were better now," Joe sighed, "I did too, really. He didn't seem to be having any trouble with it after that first day he woke up."

"Well, that didn't mean he was ready to go for _run_ ," Iris said angrily, "What was Barry _thinking_?!"

"I don't know," Joe sighed, running a hand over his face.

"Is he okay?" Iris asked worriedly, "Did he hurt himself?"

"He's fine," Joe assured her, "The doctor said he just had a small concussion. She didn't seem too concerned about it."

"How is she not concerned?!" Iris asked incredulously, "He just woke up from a coma, and now he gave himself a head injury! Shouldn't she be taking this more seriously?!"

"I know what you mean," Joe said seriously, "I can't help but feel like Barry's doctor wasn't telling me everything. She sounded a bit off."

"Well, we're going to the lab, right?" Iris asked, grabbing her coat, "We're taking Barry home with us. It was too soon for him to be alone at his apartment."

"Hang on, baby girl," Joe said quickly, reaching out a hand to stop her from putting on her coat, "Barry doesn't even know that the doctor called me. He didn't even want us to know about this."

"So what?!"

"So," Joe said seriously, "I don't think Barry wants us there. He doesn't want us to make a big deal out of it."

"I don't care," Iris said angrily, "Barry should have called us the second he was hurt!"

"Iris," Joe said softly, "Barry didn't call us because he's embarrassed."

Iris stared at him.

"What?"

"At least," Joe said, "I _think_ that's probably why he didn't call us."

"Why would he be _embarrassed_?!" she asked in confusion.

Joe sighed.

"Iris, we've been coddling him ever since he woke up," he explained, "We've been treating him like a little kid, and if we go rushing into STAR Labs now, it's only going to make it worse."

"So, we're supposed to just _ignore_ it then?!" she asked angrily, "Barry hurts himself in less than an hour, and we're seriously not going to bring him _home_?!"

"Barry's probably feeling pretty stupid right now," Joe said gently, "And he _should_. I agree with you that it was dumb of him to go for a run, and he probably knows that now, too. Us going there and yelling at him for it is just going to make him feel worse."

Iris deflated a bit then.

"You're right," she sighed, "I still don't like the idea of leaving him alone again, though."

"I don't either," Joe agreed, "But I also don't want to drive Barry away by pushing too hard."

"You've noticed it, too," Iris said quietly, "How distant he's been."

"He's just adjusting, Iris," her father assured her.

"But you can't pretend that it doesn't feel like he's keeping something from us," she pressed, "He's not opening up to us."

"He's going through a lot right now," Joe sighed, "And I think he's struggling with everything more than he's letting on. You and I both know he's always been that way, since he was a kid. He doesn't like to show weakness."

"But he should know by now that we _understand_ ," Iris said desperately, "He should know that he doesn't have to hide it from us when he's struggling."

"Iris, Barry has been treated like a victim his entire life," Joe said gently, "He's been psychoanalyzed continuously since he was eleven. He doesn't want the attention. To Barry, this kind of attention is negative, even if all we're trying to do is be there for him."

Iris gave her father a pained look.

"You're right," she sighed.

"So, you'll let this go?" he asked her seriously.

"No," she said simply, "But I promise I won't bring it up to Barry."

"Okay," he said, somewhat satisfied with her answer.

* * *

"I thought you told Barry you weren't going to call them," Cisco whispered to the doctor as she hung up her phone.

Caitlin didn't respond right away. She turned back to her laptop, where she was waiting for the x-ray results to download.

"Caitlin, you promised him," Cisco persisted.

"And I also promised Joe that I'd keep him updated," she said seriously, "Cisco, we've known Joe and Iris for eight months and Barry for only a week. I wasn't just going to cut them out of the loop."

"I'm just saying," Cisco said, "I feel like we betrayed him now."

"Trust me," Caitlin replied, "I haven't betrayed Barry's trust. I'll keep his secrets when I feel it's necessary. _This_ didn't feel necessary. He needs his family to watch out for him."

"What do you mean 'his secrets?'" Cisco asked, furrowing his eyebrows, "What other secrets could he have?"

"Nothing," Caitlin said quickly, "I just meant _if_ he has other secrets."

Just then, the x-ray results finally appeared on the screen. Caitlin stared at them in disbelief. Even though she knew about Barry's regenerative healing, she still found the films shocking just to see. Without another word to Cisco, Caitlin stood up and walked back to the med bay, laptop in hand.

"Thanks for waiting, Barry," she said, when she walked into the room to find Barry sitting on the medical bed, waiting patiently.

"Is it broken?" he sighed tiredly, gesturing to his wrist.

"It looks like you had a distal radius fracture," Caitlin said, nodding.

Barry gave her a strange look.

"Had?" he asked.

"It's healed," she said, showing him the image on her computer, "In less than three hours." **[2]**

Barry stared at the screen in shock.

"You…" he said, "You didn't tell the others about it, right?"

Caitlin shook her head.

"No," she said quietly, "I told you I wouldn't."

Barry sighed in relief.

"Thank you," he said seriously.

"Barry…" she said slowly, "I didn't want to pressure you, and I've been trying to give you time to adjust, but…"

"You want to study me," he said flatly.

Caitlin nodded.

"It's not just for research," she said quickly, "It's for your own sake, too."

Barry sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"So what do you need from me?" he sighed.

"Well, a blood sample would be a good place to start," she said gently, "Only with your consent, of course. I need to make sure you know, this would all be one-hundred percent voluntary. You can say no any time."

Barry nodded and then stretched out his arm for her. Caitlin smiled at him and then moved to retrieve a syringe and sample vial.

"So, what happened today?" she asked, as she slid the needle into his vein, "What happened when you were running?"

Barry gave her an uneasy look.

"I don't know," he said honestly, "It all happened so fast."

"You just ran into a wall?" Caitlin asked skeptically, "Were you feeling dizzy or anything?"

"Not really," Barry muttered, "There was…a woman. She was about to be hit by a truck. I pushed her out of the way, and then I hit the wall."

Caitlin blinked at him.

"You saved a woman's life?" she asked incredulously.

Barry shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said simply.

Caitlin just smiled and shook her head at him.

"You make that seem like it's not a big deal," she said.

"Well, you're a doctor," Barry pointed out, "You probably save lives all the time."

"Not really," Caitlin said, "I'm a research doctor. I don't usually save lives. At least, not directly."

"You saved mine," Barry said quietly before continuing, "And you've kept my secret."

"I told you I would," she said.

"I know," he replied, "I just didn't know if you were really going to or not. Now I know I can trust you."

Caitlin felt a small twinge of guilt at these words, knowing she had just broken her promise not to call Joe and Iris. She didn't see that as a _betrayal_ , though. She did it for Barry's own well-being. She knew that, despite his words, Barry didn't fully trust her. At least, not enough to tell her whatever it was he was keeping from her—and he _was_ keeping something; she could tell—but hopefully with time, she would be able to earn his full trust.

* * *

Joe was worried about Barry, to say the least. He never mentioned Barry's jogging incident, and neither did Barry. Barry kept it from him. Joe understood why, but it still hurt that Barry didn't feel like he could come to him. Granted, Joe hadn't always been the most approachable foster father to the boy. Tough love was his forte, and he had no regrets about that. He did, however, regret how Barry's family history affected their relationship. Joe had never encouraged Barry's delusions by hearing him out about that night, a choice that was hard to make, but he was convinced it was the right one.

It complicated things, though. It had always caused Barry to put a wall up. He didn't always come to Joe for help or advice. It made Barry feel like he had to hide his problems from him, including his obvious feelings for Joe's daughter and now whatever he was currently struggling with after his coma. Joe just wished Barry knew he could talk to him. Just because Joe didn't believe him about his father, it didn't have to mean Barry couldn't talk to him about other things.

Today wasn't the day to press Barry, though. Barry had enough on his plate right now. It was his first day back at work, and Joe was trying hard to give Barry space and not go check on him in his lab every two seconds—something that Joe found to be a lot easier said than done.

* * *

Barry sat down in his desk chair with a sigh. He had just finished rearranging his lab back to the way it was before. The temporary CSI they had brought in to cover for him during his sick leave had made a real mess of the place, and it took Barry all morning to set it all right. Thankfully, Singh hadn't given him any cases today. In fact, he was giving Barry a few days to get his lab back in order and get back into the swing of things—something Barry was very grateful for.

He didn't have time to worry about cases right now. He was more preoccupied with whatever was going on with himself. Whatever was happening in his body right now, Barry was finally going to get to the bottom of it. **[3]**

Barry sighed and turned on the webcam of his computer. He often recorded his thoughts out loud for his more difficult cases, and this was definitely one of those times. It was weird, though, taking auditory notes and speaking out loud about himself.

"Subject spent nine months and three days in a coma after being struck by lightning," he started.

He couldn't help but glance up at his skylight, which was now boarded up. Barry sighed and pulled out a blood collecting kit. He continued to speak as he drew a vile of blood from his own arm.

"Subject has been experiencing the passage of time at a different rate," he said in a strained voice as he loaded the test tube of blood into an analyzer, "Pathophysiologic reasons for hallucinations and skewed perspective could be explained by hypoxia and swelling of the brain."

He pulled out several scans he had stolen from STAR Labs. Well, okay, it wasn't really stealing if the scans he had taken were his own. He studied them carefully, looking for abnormalities.

"Scans show no visible signs of brain damage," he said quietly, "Medical reports indicate no increased intracranial pressure. Pulse ox is _better_ than normal, and no cardiac dysrhythmias have been recorded. Tachycardia is mentioned in the report, but the subject's heartrate seems to be stable, despite its fast pace."

Barry glanced over at his blood analyzer to see how much time was left on the analysis. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the time. It still read 00:00:00. He must have forgotten to turn it on. He was just about to press the start button on it again when suddenly, the clock changed.

00:00:10

Barry stared at it.

The machine was on, but according to the timer, the analysis had only been running for one tenth of a second. He looked at his computer then, at the recording time on the case video he was recording.

Video time: 00:00:10.

"That's not possible," Barry whispered.

He paused the video then and played it back.

Barry stared with wide eyes as he watched himself on the screen. He was moving in a blur as he drew blood from his arm and loaded it into the machine. His words weren't even audible because he was speaking too fast. Barry paused the video, his hand shaking as he moved the mouse. He slowed the video down to a tenth of its original speed and pressed play. Only then, were his words audible and movements visible. His movements, however, were still far too fast to be humanly possible.

"The world's not slowing down," Barry said shakily to himself, " _I'm_ speeding _up._ "

* * *

 **[1] The intersection of Dalton and McKinley appears in several of my stories. It's the intersection Barry had his car crash in Crashing and it's located near the alley Barry got assaulted in in Prejudice. The streets are named after the two schools in the show, Glee: McKinley High and Dalton Academy—the prep school Grant Gustin's character attended.**

 **[2] If Barry can heal a distal radius fracture in only three hours and it usually takes six weeks—1008 hours—for that type of fracture to heal, it would mean Barry heals in 0.3% of the time a normal person heals. That's 336 times faster than a normal person. Granted, I've done calculations for his other injuries, and they never match this calculation. It's a TV show based on a comic book, so I can't fault them for being inconsistent.**

 **[3] Disclaimer: The last scene in Barry's lab was not my own. It was actually taken from the original script of the pilot episode. In the original screenplay, Barry tried to understand his powers before he went to STAR Labs for help. The scene was deleted from the script and never filmed. If you want to see more cut scenes from the pilot episode's script, check out my Twitter. Direct message me your email, and I'll send you a PDF copy.**


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